I Know It Hurts
by Jasper-Alice.FAN
Summary: Jasper Whitlock, a teenager caught between a heroin addiction, an alcoholic mother, an abusive father and the constant rain of Port Angeles... Carlisle and the others feature. AH.
1. Endless Rain In This Here Town

The greyness was overwhelming. I was truly in the heart of the concrete jungle, Port Angeles was a _hole_. It never stops raining, the paths were always damp and the overflows always full of murky, polluted water. This wasn't good for me, it meant no privacy – I would do what I needed on the streets behind the dirty restaurants, the alleys deserted except for the occasional tramp or drunken teenager seeking refuge.

But I, Jasper Whitlock, I wasn't a teenage drunkard. No, I am a far more despicable type of person. This _hole_ was my home. I didn't sleep here, I do have a real house, but it's far from a home.

The rain had ceased for a mere minute, so I set my frayed jumper on the floor so that my jeans wouldn't soak through when I sat down – not that it would matter, I just didn't really enjoy getting a beating for ruining them. I shook my head so that the unruly dirty blonde locks hung over my almost caramel eyes; I looked like my mother, so everyone says. _I'm Jasper Whitlock, and I am the spitting image of my alcoholic mother, doesn't it just make your heart swell. _I moved the locks slowly from my vision, pushing my hand deftly through my hair.

"Fuckin' weather" I drawled to myself.

The clouds had decided to open again, the droplets settling in my hair and on my clothes. Oh well, it's not as if I haven't sat in the rain before… I'll do this anyway. I'll do it my way, let's just get it over with.

I rolled my terry-cloth sleeve up to expose the sweet spot on my left arm. The hem easily creating the pressure in my veins that I needed to stick the needle in. Thin blue veins bulging visibly under my papery skin. The needle was clean; I'm not an idiot, well not a _complete_ idiot. I looked away as it tore my skin and I began to force it to spread into my system.

The dirt spread up my arm, a cold and tingly feeling spreading through me. This was going to be good, I could tell it was going to be a spine-crushing hit.

"Oh baby…" I murmured as my head smacked back against the alley wall. My jaw falling open instead of usually clamping shut. There'd be no chance of dribbling, my mouth was as dry as… as… well anything that wasn't here… under these stupid miserable clouds.

This was better than sex. This was heroin.

--

_Oh no… Oh please lord no…_

My stomach lurched as the car pulled onto the interstate. This was the worst thing about my love and I. The uncontrollable puking that took over my body after about 25% of my hits.

"Carlisle…" I groaned, pulling myself up from slouching in his passenger seat.

"Yes Jasper?" He asked politely, unsure whether the sudden conversation was a good or bad sign. Generally I didn't speak to him on these little trips, except to say _yes my mum is okay_ or _I don't know, I left her passed out. _I caught him glance in out the corner of his eye at my sorry ass state.

"Can you… erm… pull over?" I fought back a gag.

"I can't, mate." He said hurriedly. "But there's a bucket in the back-seat, grab that."

_Please… please make it, Jasper. Don't be sick in his car._

I grabbed blindly in the back, my hands finding something solid and rather bucket-like and I pulled it into my lap. Just in time. I emptied my stomach in one huge motion before exploding into a bout of dry heaves. Good job I hadn't eaten too much before I took myself into town.

"I'm sorry Carlisle." I muttered, wiping my mouth with the sleeves of my shirt.

"It's okay, mate." He said, handing me a pack of gum from his pocket. "Here, take one of these, they'll get rid of the taste…"

"Cheers." I said, pretending to pop it in my mouth, before slipping it into my jeans pocket. I just knew I'd need it after getting out the car, my stomach wasn't settled yet, and with that, it spasmed again.

--

"Hey, Jasper…" Carlisle said slowly as we stopped at the top of my long, winding driveway.

"Yeah?" I said impatiently, wanting to jump out and get into the house as soon as humanly possible, anything to escape the suspense before the punishment I was bound to get when I got behind the closed door.

"You'd tell me if anything was wrong, right?" Carlisle asked with hopeful eyes.

"Hmm." I nodded quickly, swinging my legs out the now open door, oh dear my legs were tired. Well, 'tired' as in drug-fucked. "Sorry for the sick, eh…"

"It's okay, mate. At least you warned me this time." Carlisle chuckled, his hazel nut eyes crinkling at the edges with slight amusement. "You should really let me you check you over, you know. You seem a bit ill."

"I'm fine, I promise." I lied.

"Keep outta trouble, you're a good lad." He said, he always said that, every single time he dropped me at the house. This was generally 2 or 3 times a week, whenever he finds me out of it at the side of the alley behind his clinic.

"Me? Trouble?" I grinned, closing the car door and starting the unsteady walk towards the front door. When I heard his engine get further away, I turned to watch the Mercedes cruise slowly out of the gates at the bottom of the drive. _I wished I could stay out of trouble, I really really do._

**A/N – Trying something a little bit new. I know that there's a similar story out here on – but bear with me, it will not be similar after this chapter. Leave me lovely reviews and comments, please? I'll try to update this as well as finish my other story off. **


	2. Poptarts and Heroin

**WARNING: Quite disturbing stuff here. Sexual abuse/Mentions of physical abuse. Drugs. Suicidal feelings/thoughts... **

**Sorry for the delay :( I love you guys though... **

**--**

"Jasper honey?" I heard her call. The door slam gave me away, obviously. Jeez, I wish I could do the silent creep thing that my father has perfected. Oh lord, my eyes hurt… my arm hurts… I need a drink… "Sweetie? Is that you?"

"Yes." I called gruffly; my mouth needs to lose the sandpaper feel.

"Where have you been?" She shouted from upstairs. The house was huge, so echoey and _classic_ – as my mum called it. It's still not decorated though, bare floorboards, peeling wallpaper, a cracked TV in the living room… nothing else, a shell.

"Town." I called back. "Carlisle gave me a ride home."

"Were you in trouble again then?" She shouted back, as I wandered into the kitchen and poured myself a plastic tumbler of water, the tap dribbling a sorry little stream. I downed it easily in one gulp, maybe she'd go back to sleep – or maybe not, after all, I'm never _that_ lucky. "Jasper! You're in trouble, aren't you!?"

"No." I yelled. Wow, my throat is much more lubricated now. "I'm not in trouble, mum. Not this time…"

"Okay, make yourself dinner…" She sounded tired. Or drunk. Or both.

"Yeah, I always do." I muttered to myself, picking up that lonely strawberry poptart from the counter and stuffing it in my mouth, whole. My stomach settles fast, and I still have that chewing gum for later. I'll need it.

--

_Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry._

_I'm a bad boy. I'm a bad boy. I'm a bad boy._

I could feel my eyes prickling, the tears threatening to spill over and leak down my cheeks. My breath was ragged and laboured with the effort it took me to get the oxygen back into my blood system. The pillow was stopping me from sobbing and crying, my teeth biting into it so hard that I could feel my jaw trembling. My body was tense and braced for impact still – my muscles clenched together all over.

I heard his footsteps on the floorboards, echoing on the carpet less wood. It wasn't hard to imagine how much amusement he was getting from the slow march, the bite of his boots are friends of mine. I could hear the belt being removed from his low-slung jeans.

_I hate him. I hate this. I want to be numb._

_I need the drugs. Need, not want._

--

"Do it now." He commanded, although not truly shouting – just a low groan. I so badly wanted to shake my head, to tell him no. I didn't want to do this. But I couldn't stop him. He would kill me. "Now."

I didn't move an inch; my face was still so close to his erection.

He yanked my head forwards, forcing my mouth around him. I could feel myself about to puke, disgusting man. Why does he do this? Why me?

_Let me die…_

"I hate you" I choked out as he quivered. My lips burned, all puffed up. Too much drugs. Too much sex. Too much sin. My body wasn't cut out for this. It's cut out for my sins, not his. The silence around us enveloped us, this little scene that had unfolded so quickly – tonight isn't a one off, it's the same old song and dance, every single night of my life.

"I hate you too" He sneered, removing himself from my mouth and then pulling his jeans back over his naked self. "You little shit."

_The cigarette burns hurt. The punches hurt. The nightmares of my mum hurt._

_I need numbness, I hate feeling._

--

"Jasper, honey…" She slurred drunkenly. "Where… are you going?"

"Out." I yelled. I had my backpack full of drugs, a pocket full of _his_ cash and a bottle of rum. Enough to drown my sorrows for one night. One night of solace.

_What would Carlisle think? _I thought as I stepped out into the icy rain that fell from the sky and soaked me through immediately. At least I could pretend it was rain running down my face and not my own tears.

--

"Jasper… Jasper, son?" I heard the voice through my clouded brain.

_I don't want to wake up. Don't make me wake up._


	3. Jasper Whitlock Sir

**I updated "as soon as humanly possible" just for you guys. And the writing style is a bit jumpy and crazy, because it's from Jasper's POV, so when he's loaded or whatever, his thoughts are more likely to be depressed or stick on one thing that he's thinking about – if you get me? **

**I'll be honest, I don't mind about how many reviews/readers this story gets, as long as one person is reading, I'll keep on writing. Pfft, I enjoy this one more than the other one anyway ;) **

--

"Jasper. Can you hear me?" His voice called, slicing through the fog of my numb brain. My ears work; I know that at least – one good sign already. Now to check my other senses as I return to the world…

"Mmm…" I slurred, my tongue sort of works, I guess. "Shut the hell up…"

"Jasper. Open your eyes." He said firmly. I could feel his hands on my shoulders, rolling me over onto my side. Oh great, he thought I was still at risk of choking on my own vomit then. "Come on, mate. Open your eyes for me."

I pulled my hands up to rub my eyes, try to slowly work them open. Wow, my eyes were crusty. I bet they were red too, like stoners eyes. I don't get stoned though. Heroin users don't get _stoned_. I get _loaded._ I wonder how much I took last night… A lot, I reckon.

"I don't want to." I moaned tiredly… even though my eyelids flickered on their own accord. There was a tight feeling at the corners of them, bruises? Maybe he did hit me then… I can't remember… that was last night, before the brain bleaching….

"Come on, mate." He said again.

"I don't want to… leave me alone…" I slurred again.

His hands tightened around my upper arm, oh wow that was sore. There were definitely bruises underneath my jumper then…

--

"_Get off me! Stop hurting me…_

_Not there, stop squeezing my arm there. That hurts!_

_Dad, get off me!"_

--

I rolled away from him, pulling my arm from his soft grip. My eyes sprang open wide and my heart kicked in, pumping me full of adrenaline within milliseconds. Where was the danger!? I scrambled into a crouching position… I could run… I snatched my bag into my arms before he could touch me again.

"Jasper…" He said worriedly. "Jasper, calm down."

"Don't hurt me, please…" I cried. Tensing myself for the impact, unsure of whether it was going to come in a moment of surprise.

"Jasper, it's Carlisle. I'm not going to hurt you." He said softly.

I looked up into his eyes, his soft hazelnut eyes. I believed him, I believed he wouldn't hurt me. I sank back down against the damp concrete floor. I pulled my knees up to my chest, my bag tucked between them. My safe position. Safety. My bag still in my arms, my knuckles turning white as I gripped it tighter than I had held anything before.

He moved towards me and I flinched impulsively again.

"Jasper…" He murmured again. "What day is it?"

"Wha'?" I drawled. My belly rumbled hungrily, I so badly wanted to punch myself and tell it to shut up – no food yet, not until I was clean and didn't smell of alley – it'd have to wait until I could get to a café without looking like a tramp.

"What day is it?" He repeated again, more slowly.

"Monday?" I said unsurely. I felt my eyebrows twitch on my forehead, ouch. Now I know why he was looking at me funny, I must be a state, even worse than usual. "I think…"

"Well done, mate." He smiled softly. "You got that right… what's your name?"

"I'm Jasper. Jasper Whitlock, sir." I muttered, trying to match the smile that was playing on his lips. Be polite, Jasper. Don't let him think it's worse than he has to.

"Good lad, and what happened to you?" Carlisle smiled "Mugged…? You get jumped again…? What did they take…?"

"Erm, yes… I don't think they took anything." I said, moving back to a seated position, my legs lowering back away from my chest.

_Nothing to be scared of here. Safe. _

"Let me check you out." Carlisle instructed, trying to peel my bag from my hands so he could look at my bruises. I could tell you where each one was, what it was from, how much it hurt and how many times there'd been one there before. I clutched my bag impossibly tighter to my chest.

"No." I insisted. "I'm fine."

"Jasper. I need to look." He said clearly, his bright eyes still scanning up and down my bruised face. "Please… let me look."

"No." I repeated.

_I don't need your sympathy. I don't want it either!_

--

FLASHBACK

"Jasper Whitlock?" The teacher called. I can't even remember his name… elementary school was so far gone in my life, I don't remember much about it. Well not too much.

"Present." I said shyly, keeping my voice low and my eyes stuck to the desk in front of me. I didn't want to come here, they weren't nice here… I didn't have friends; I didn't have all the toys that everyone else had…

I could hear the sniggers around me.

I was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, the knee of my pants ripped open were I grazed my knee sometime last fall. My jumper smelt of smoke from father, the keep wine from mother and the rain from Forks.

"Another bruise…" I heard the teacher mutter under his breath, talking to no-one but himself. I sat at the front, nearest the door… I was always late, every single day, even when Carlisle had picked me up halfway down the road…

END FLASHBACK

--

"We need to talk." Carlisle said as we climbed into his sleek black car. I'd ruin his leather seats, the amount of times I climbed in while soaked to the bone.

I stared ahead, out the window. My jaw set firmly.

The rain was slowing now. What a bastard. Why did it always wait until I'd found shelter before easing off? The world hates me. It does.

"About what?" I said finally knowing he wasn't going to drive anywhere without me answering him.

"The bruises… the flinching… the smell of rum on your breath…" He listed off, his calm voice flickering and cracking a bit with emotion. I knew a bit about Dr Carlisle, he had a few children… all adopted of course, his wife Esme couldn't have children… I wonder what he thought was happening to me. "You're getting into drunken fights aren't you? Are you in debt to anyone?"

I snorted and then had to stop myself laughing as he turned his head towards me.

"Something like that…" I smiled wryly at him.

"Do you want to talk about it? I can help you out, Jasper. I don't mind lending you some money… or I can speak to the police for you…" He said kindly, I actually felt sorry for him, getting involved with a little fucker like me.

"Carlisle…" I said slowly. "Seriously… I'm fine."

He didn't answer. He simply turned the key in the ignition and started up the car, the wipers swishing miserably against the droplets falling down in slow-motion. Dreary. Grey. Concrete.

--

_Hungry. Cold. Sick. Hot. _

"Jasper." Carlisle said sternly. Strictly doctors voice. "Don't go to sleep."

"Mmm… I'm sorry…" I yawned, stretching my arms slowly and not above shoulder height, that would hurt. Experience knows.

"It's okay. I just don't want you going unconscious on me." He said, his voice a little lighter and friendlier now. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore…" I groaned, but kinda laughed at the same time. It was like a demented choke to my ears. My head isn't jumpy now. I can almost follow one thread of thought… almost… "Like I've been beaten by a heavyweight boxing gorilla."

"How long have we known each other, Jasper?" He laughed. Probably wondering why I'm chatty today. I think it's the most I've ever spoke to him in such a short period. I'm still kinda loaded, that's probably why. Oh and by the way, that little voice inside my head never shuts up… Stop talking to yourself, stupid…

"Erm, I don't know. Maybe 10 years now…" I murmured.

"Not long enough." He said slowly, handing me a bottle of water. "You look thirsty… and Jasper, you do realise…"

I waited for him to continue, but his voice didn't kick back in.

"Yeah?" I prompted.

"I looked through your bag…" He admitted, his voice cracking painfully.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

_What did he find? No… no… no…_

"Yeah. I'm sorry." I started. "Please, don't hate me…"

I'm sure that's the point I started to cry. Miserable, shameful tears pouring from my eyes. Soaking up the dried blood on my face, giving my tears a red stain… I'm a mess. I'm worthless. He found out. He's gonna hate me.

_Jasper. Jasper. Jasper._

_Bad boy. Bad boy. Bad boy._

--

**So… I drew it out into a long chapter about nothing… That makes me almost like SM, lol. **

**Next chapter – lots of angsty abuse, Jasper's realisations and some gratuitous swearing. Unfortunately, No Carlisle to save him next chapter – Carlisle free zone.**


	4. Empty Bottle

**Short chapter. Packed with swearing. Packed with Jasper.**

--

Once again the black Mercedes sneaked up the driveway. The rain was billowing down on us once more – probably knew that I had to get out the car in a minute, decided to soak me though. Stupid weather.

My cheeks still felt stiff from the bruises and dried tears. My lips were cracked and stained with the salt that had been left from my eyes. But it's not even artistic, it's a mess. That's all I am, a fucking mess!

"Mate, gimme a call any time" Carlisle smiled worriedly, he'd given me his mobile and house number a few minutes before. After he'd stopped me from blubbing my heart out over nothing – _nothing._

He found my bottle. An empty fucking bottle.

_Thankyou god. Thankyou. _

He thinks it's my mothers probably. Carlisle's naïve and gentle enough to believe that I'd try and dispose of her hardships for her – but I'm not an angel. I'm a little bugger… I didn't tell him it was mine; I don't plan on it either.

"Yeah, okay…" I sighed heavily.

I must have used a hell of a lot of my stash last night: sweet dreams.

"So, Jasper…" Carlisle started. This was gonna be good wasn't it? Another epic speech about how I can change my life…

"Yeah?" I sighed again.

"I have a spare room you know?" He said. _What?_

I just stared at him.

"I don't need your charity Dr. Cullen" I spat "You think I can just up and out of this house? I can't! How can I leave my mother here? You know what he does to me, you just won't say it!"

"Jasper, I'm sorry" He said, trying to make eye contact with me, but I simply stared at the top of his head. I hate eye-contact.

"Don't say that!" I yelled "I don't want your pity either! So what I get the shit beaten outta me on an almost daily basis? Do you really care _that_ much?"

"Of course I care!" Carlisle started to raise his voice back.

"Okay, big talk." I hissed acidly, before opening the car door and stepping into the rain. God, drab grey drops falling onto me. It was like god was pissing on me. No need to be poetic, eh Jasper. Just say it like it is. I leaned back into the car and picked up the empty bottle from the footwell.

--

"You fucking little shit!" He bellowed at me from the top of the stairs.

How I love this house and its ability to echo.

"Oh fuck off…" I muttered under my breath. No wonder he beats me, I probably deserve this. Every time he hurts me it does feel good, fuckin' fantastic. It makes me want to shower and cleanse my soul and make myself all clean…

"Where do you think you've been all night!?" He boomed again, clattering down the stairs towards me. It sounded like god almighty himself was about to come and smite me. Come on then, bring it on.

_Are you gonna make me mouth fuck you again? Or maybe you're just gonna fuck me anyway? Come on then! Do it, make me a good boy._

--

(Over at Carlisle's house.)

"Edward, son." Carlisle said seriously.

"Yes dad?" Edward said, looking up from the biology textbook he was currently pouring over. _The effect of caffeine on the nervous system._ He was adopted – like all the Cullen children were, but he belonged to this family. "What is it?"

"Jasper Hale." Carlisle said, ruffling his silvery grey hair slightly.

"What about him?" Edward asked, putting the book onto the desk and giving all his attention over to his dad.

"What do you know about him?" Carlisle asked.

"He's in my biology class. But I don't think I've ever seen him when he's not just out his face… or sleeping…" Edward laughed. "Erm, he doesn't do football practise or band practise like me… erm, homework is always late…"

"Okay, anything else son?" Carlisle asked

"Well, I dunno if I'm right in saying this… but I think he's gay. And he almost definitely either does drugs." Edward said slowly, he personally didn't ever speak to Jasper – the weird kid, and he never seen anyone actually speak to him…

"Thanks Edward" Carlisle said, immediately standing up from the kitchen table.


End file.
